A New Guardian
by gingshinobi
Summary: Tate is the new Spirit of the Wind, and he isn't accepting the fact that he has to work so closely with Jack Frost very well, holding onto pain he felt in his past life caused by the harsh cold of winter. But soon enough they'll have to face a bigger enemy than their clashing personalities, as Tate is chosen to be a Guardian in a time of desperate need, before darkness can win.
1. Chapter 1

The moon dies every morning only to let the sun breathe. I've never seen such love and harmony in two bodies before, I've always wondered what it would be like… to have a lover that would die for you if only to let you shine a little brighter. The moon was always something that fascinated me, shining so bright only from the reflection of it's counterpart, but shining bright all the same. It was beautiful. It saved me. The moon that I adored so much was the same moon that breathed life into me when I had lost the ability to breathe my own air, push my own lungs; bring life into my own body. Cystic Fibrosis is a disease that tears you apart from the inside, starting at your lungs and hitting them hard before spreading through the rest of your body to wreak havoc on your insides. Most of those diagnosed with it only live to see their twenties, and it's not uncommon for children to die in their youth. Cystic Fibrosis steals you from the world during the most important years of your life- the years you're supposed to spend having fun, full of wonder without a care in the world. Your childhood. It changes every experience that's meant to highlight your youthfulness. Christmases are spent in the hospital, hooked up to a machine to help pump your lungs a little hard- keep you going for a bit longer. There's no Christmas tree, no chimney for Santa to come down, no staying up all night just to catch a glimpse of the old man. No, you're too weak for that. Hunting for Easter eggs on Easter? Not when you can barely keep up with your friends because running stings your lungs and cripples you until your parents run out with your inhaler to help your breathing ease. A vicious disease that tore me apart until my last breath stole my childhood from me. The moon saved me as my last breath escaped my weak body, almost nothing but skin and bones by the time I was taken from the world. I owe the moon everything I have now, because it was he who gave me the body capable of keeping up with the wind, something I could never do as a child- keep up. Everyone around me was moving at a faster pace, accomplishing more; _living_ more. Now, I am the wind. I am freedom, and joy, and lightheartedness. I am Spring, and the new breath brought to the world by the Spring winds, I am the crisp autumn air throwing leaves into the air, I am the winter wind blowing the hat off of your head as you make snow angels, and I am the cool summer breeze as you jump into the pool with that wide grin on your face, eyes full of joy. My name is Tate, and I am the Spirit of the Wind, I am alive again, and I will make the most of the life the moon has given me.

"Wind, take me home!" I frown when I hear the boy yelling from the rooftop. Jack Frost, the Guardian of Fun, the nip on your nose, the harsh cold that freezes you to the bone and sends shivers down your spine. Jack was close with the previous wind spirit, working as a team to bring him wherever he asked so that he could deliver a little chill to any area he wanted to. But it was different now. I am the wind, no one controls me. I am a free spirit to do as I please. "Come again?" My feet land hard on the rooftop in front of Jack, and he quickly snaps his attention to the new figure standing in front of him. He smiles, and I feel my insides churn. There's something about Jack Frost that sets me off in the worst way. He was always smiling; nothing was ever serious to him. The Guardian of Fun didn't seem to have much else on his mind besides having a good time. How naïve. How naïve to believe fun was something every child experienced, and how naïve of him to believe even for a second that he could control the joy experienced by children. All I can ever think of when I look at him is the memories of my winters, not being able to play outside with my friends because the air was too cold, too dry, and too rough on my failing lungs and weak body. Jack Frost was a poison I could never breathe in, and I'll be damned if I give him the time of day now. Jack stands gracefully, hopping up onto his feet and grinning at me as he reaches out his hand, expecting me to take it. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and frown at him. He laughs and shoves his hand back into his pocket, his eyes sparkling as he speaks. "My name is Jack Frost. And who might you be? Judging from your looks, you must be a spirit as well. It's nice to meet you." As I run my hands through my hair smoothing it back into place, I shake my head and grimace at the boy standing in front of me, and his smile fades immediately. "I know who you are, Jack. Because really, who are you without me to lift you up and carry you to wherever you need to be?" Jack steps back to look me up and down, the corner of his lips lifting a bit as he realizes who he's talking to. "There's a new wind spirit, isn't there? Manny chose you." I grin and shrug, pushing my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "I guess so. But I was never told I would have to work so closely with... _you._"

The last word stung Jack, it had been a while since someone had looked down on him the way that Tate was. It reminded him of when he first met the big three, having to prove to them that he wasn't all games and tricks. He looked Tate up and down, taking in every detail of the new spirit. He was taller than Jack, and seemed a little older than him- physically, at least. He wore a long jacket covered in patches of different patterns and colors, none of which matched the black scarf hanging lazily around his neck. His expression was nothing but distaste, his piercing blue eyes looking tired and bored with the whole situation. Jack's heart fluttered a little as he realized just how piercing Tate's eyes were, only amplified by the shimmering blue markings branching off from his eyes and towards his auburn hair, which was pushed back and spiked as if the boy had been stuck in a wind tunnel. Jack laughed to himself; of course, it would only make sense that the boy looked like he lived his life inside a gust of wind- because that's where his new life was going to be spent. Just as Manny had turned Jack's hair snow white, he had changed Tate's features to characterize the very element he was controlling. "I don't see what's so funny, Jack. You're stranded here with no way home." Jack sighed and looked back up at the spirit in front of him. "Look, Tate. You don't have to like me. But you have to bring me home. If you don't, Manny won't be very happy with you. Might even lose your precious newfound powers." Tate frowned, stepping closer to Jack so that he could almost feel the cold of the boy's skin. "Jack Frost, I never enjoyed you, even in my life before this. I will take you home, but only because the moon has entrusted me with the job of being the spirit of the wind, and I take pride in knowing you'd be stranded if it weren't for me." Jack laughed, picking up his staff and placing his hand on the elder boy's shoulder, looking him in the eyes, feeling him shudder under his ice-cold touch. "Lighten up, Tate. You're the wind, aren't you supposed to be cheerful and free and lighthearted? I miss your predecessor; he knew what it was like to have a little fun. Now, let's g—" Before Jack cold finish his sentence, Tate flicked his wrist and he was off, the harsh winds whipping at his face and pushing him forward with more force than grace. Jack cursed at Tate in his head, bracing himself for the hard impact he knew was soon to come from the spirit's winds. This was going to be a tough relationship to build.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack was hurled into the side of the building with enough force to knock the wind out of him, and as he lay on the ground struggling to catch his breath, Tate sat atop the telephone wires and smirked down at him. It was nighttime in this time zone, and the streetlight made Jack's features glow against the cold darkness around them. He stood up, hunched over for just another minute before he fully straightened himself out to get a good look at this new wind spirit he had to deal with. Tate smiled, catching Jack off guard. As malicious as that smile was, Jack could see the joyfulness behind it, and it suited him well. Tate was having _fun_ with throwing Jack around. He picked up his staff and pointed it at Tate, frowning.

"I don't see the point to you doing this, it would be a lot easier on both of us if you would at least try to get along with me. I haven't done anything to you." Jack spoke in a harsh tone; his eyes ice cold as he watched Tate walk across the telephone wire, smiling to himself as he balanced himself on the tightrope.  
"Because, Jack. I don't like you. You've always made my life hard, and now that there's a face to the winter that caused me so much pain- well, why would I want to be friends with it? You're nothing but cold, and harsh, and..." Tate struggled to find more words to throw at the younger boy, but Jack felt the need to jump in and offer some help. "What, Tate? Fun? What do you have against fun?"

Jack smirked as he formed a snowball in his hand, and before Tate could realize what was going on, the snow collided with the side of his face and knocked him off of the wire. Quickly Jack aimed his staff at the ground below Tate, and a pile of snow formed beneath him to break his fall. Tate landed in the pile with a quiet _thud_, the snow covering his body up to his neck. Out of habit, Tate began to cough from the impact and physical energy exerted to brace his fall. Jack made his way over to the pile, smirking a little as he knelt down in front of Tate.

"You can't do this, Tate, you can't shut people out because of things from your life before this. Manny chose you, to give you a _new_ life. Don't you think it's a great opportunity to be a little less angry at the world?" Jack reached forward and brushed a bit of snow off of Tate's nose, causing him to hesitate for a moment before slapping Jack's hand away. "Don't touch me." He mumbled, standing from the pile and brushing the snow off of himself. "You don't know anything about who I was, Frost. In fact, you don't know anything about who I am _now._"

Jack turned on his heel, shrugging and calling over his shoulder, "That's just fine, Tate. We've got plenty of time to learn all about each other. But for now, I'm home. So thank you, and have a wonderful night." And with that, the Guardian of Fun was off. He sprung up onto the rooftop of the nearest building, and Tate watched as he effortlessly jumped from building-top to building-top, ice forming everywhere the boy's feet came into contact. Tate shook his head, dusting off the rest of the snow from his clothes. What an idiot, that Jack Frost. Not a care in the world, as if this was a game. The role of a spirit is an important one; it's not all about having fun and causing snow days. Jack was a fool to act so recklessly without any thought of consequence. He had believers now, how could he go prancing from roof to roof without worrying about someone seeing him? It wasn't the same for Jack as it was for Tate. He had friends, and children who believed in him and kept him strong. How could he be so foolish as to risk that all by acting so carelessly about keeping himself hidden? Tate shook his head, it wasn't anything that concerned him, and it wasn't anything he should let himself get so worked up over. Jack Frost was simply someone he would never get along with, so there was no point in trying.

"Jamie?" Jack called out into the dark apartment, his stomach churning with fear as he entered the threshold. Where was Jamie? Why wasn't he home? Jamie was older now, living on his own in a new town. Jack managed to stop by almost every day, making sure Jamie was doing all right. Years ago, Pitch had made it crystal clear that if he were to ever escape, Jack's first believer would be the one he would be going after. Jack wouldn't let that happen. He would protect Jamie to the very end, and if Pitch were to ever escape the hole they buried him in, he wouldn't be around for long if Jack could manage to get his hands on him again.

"I'm in here, Jack?" Jack smiled as he rounded the corner to find Jamie in the kitchen, only one light on, hunched over a pile of papers. "Sorry, I just have to get this done and I didn't want anyone thinking I was home and coming by to—" Jamie looked up to see the hurt expression on Jack's face, immediately realizing what he had said had come out wrong. "Not you, Jack! I didn't mean it like that!"

Jack shrugged and plopped down onto Jamie's couch, turning on the TV but not bothering to turn on any of the lights. "It's fine. How are you?" He asked, flipping through the channels without paying much attention.

"I'm fine, just a lot that needs to be done before I get to sleep." Jamie was a college student now, always immersed in some kind of work without much time for his friends, including Jack. It was hard watching Jamie grow; losing the childlike wonder that filled his eyes. He no longer begged for snow days, didn't wait all night for a sign of one the Guardians. If it weren't for Jack being such a big part of his childhood, Jamie wouldn't be able to see him at all. But who could forget fighting a battle with the Guardians against an army of nightmares? So alas, Jack was there to stay. Now that they were the same age, their friendship had grown to that of two normal teenagers- talking about girls, making inappropriate jokes, and stirring up a bit of trouble wherever they went. At least, when Jamie had time to do those things. Now it was almost a bore for Jack to check on him every night, because Jamie was always working and never seemed to have enough time to goof off.

"Jamie, there's a new wind spirit, he's a total dick," Jack smiled and hopped off of the couch, lifting himself up onto the table to sit next to the pile of papers Jamie was studying. "He totally hates me and I have no idea why. You've gotta help me think of some ways to mess with the guy, get under his skin. I've gotta loosen him up somehow."

Jamie didn't break his concentration from his work long enough to even acknowledge that Jack was speaking to him. He bit on the eraser of his pencil, frowning down at the papers in front of him before looking up to Jack for a second, "What?"

Jack frowned and pushed some of Jamie's papers off of the table, "You're no fun anymore, kid." He mumbled, getting off of the tabletop and heading towards the door.

"Maybe it's because I'm not a kid anymore, Jack. Have you stopped to realize that? Maybe that's something you don't understand—when people get older, they don't think about having fun and playing in the snow like they used to. Maybe that's why this new spirit doesn't like you. You never take anything seriously." Jamie bent down to pick up the papers Jack had strewn across the floor, frowning as he did so. "Look, Jack, I have a lot to do tonight. How about I just see you tomorrow?"

Jack sighed and opened the door, letting himself out. The cold air blew in through the doorway, and he caught Jamie shiver and shake his head as Jack left. This sucked. No one appreciated what he did anymore—at least, not anyone close to him. Sure it was great that children believed in him again, it was the best feeling he had ever experienced. It was everything he had hoped it would be. Being believed in gave him a purpose. But now that his closest friend and first believer was growing older, Jack was realizing why it was so important to keep children young at heart. Being a child was something so pure and wonderful that it hurt him to watch it fade from Jamie over the years. But what was important now was something serious. He was no longer the Guardian of Jamie's sense of fun; he was the Guardian of Jamie's life. Jamie didn't know that Pitch was out to get him. Jack never thought it was something he should put onto the boy's plate, there was no sense living in fear when Jack would always be there to protect him anyway. Besides, Pitch hadn't shown his face in years. It was starting to occur to Jack that maybe they had really gotten rid of him and his nightmares. Maybe they had succeeded in truly saving the world from darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Jamie tossed and turned in his sleep, his conscious body sweating and shaking as his dreams shifted into nightmares. It had been so long since he had had such dark dreams, and if he hadn't known better, he would have assumed it was Pitch's doing. But he was gone, locked away forever. Jamie screamed out, not able to move as he watched his little sister venturing towards the clearing where they had locked Pitch away forever. It was little Sophie, from when they were kids, which made it even worse for Jamie as she peered down into the hole and called out, "Hello?"

"No, Sophie! Stop!" Jamie screamed, trying his hardest to move but it felt like his legs weighed hundreds of pounds each. Sophie couldn't hear him. Why couldn't she hear him? There was no way he could save her. Jamie lashed around more, trying to get his body to cooperate with him. Immediately he stopped, hearing the familiar malicious laugh that he had managed to block out of his memory for so many years. The Boogeyman.

Jamie watched in horror as Pitch lifted his little sister up into his arms, a devilish grin spreading across his lips. "Why, hello Jamie. My, how you've grown." He chuckled, running his fingers through Sophie's hair as he kept his eyes on Jamie.

"Let her go!" Jamie screamed, shaking his head violently, he just wanted to wake up. He had to get out, he had to tell—

"Jack Frost?" Jamie whipped his head up to look at Pitch again, he had come closer, Sophie in his arms looking absolutely horrified. "He's still around, eh? Still protecting his precious first believer? Well, Jamie. Where is he now?" Pitch glided over to Jamie so he could stand right in front of him. Jamie did everything he could to reach his hand out and grab Sophie, to just touch her and tell her it would be okay… but his arm didn't move, and Pitch held the girl tightly while smiling down at her brother.

"Let her go!" Jamie screamed again. Why couldn't he just wake up?

"This is my nightmare, Jamie. I choose when it's time for you to wake up." Pitch chuckled, smiling down at Sophie, who buried her face in his robes and began to cry. Pitch smirked at Jamie, shaking his head. "You can't even stop your baby sister from crying, what good are you? Your family is probably happy you moved away, went off to university. They don't miss you one bit. Your only friend is an imaginary fairy who brings snow in the night. Really, Jamie. Do you realize how pathetic your life is?" Pitch put Sophie down, patting her head as she looked up at Jamie.

Her pupils were black, her face pale, no sparkle in her eyes. "Jamie," she whispered, stepping forward a little. "You can't stop him. He's back, and he's going to hurt everyone you love if you step between him and Jack." A grin grew on the young girls lips, something horribly evil that made Jamie squirm. He looked up at Pitch, who was smiling at the girl.

"Wouldn't she make a wonderful fearling? Oh, Jamie. If I were you, I'd watch out. Because I know where your real sister is, and I will find her, and I will turn her into-" Pitch grinned and gestured towards Sophie, "One of these." Pitch let out a horrible laugh, running his fingers through his hair before quieting down and staring Jamie in the eyes. "Do not interfere with what I am doing, boy. I will not let you defeat me again."

Jamie woke up covered in sweat, trying to catch his breath. What could he do? He couldn't warn Jack, that wasn't even a question. Sophie could never take on Pitch, she had never even heard of the battle that had taken place with the nightmares in their town. She wouldn't know what to do. There was no way he was going to risk his little sister getting turned into a fearling, he would never forgive himself if she had to live the rest of her life under control of the Nightmare King. He would have to stay quiet, and hope to God that when the time came, Jack would be able to fight off Pitch as he had before.

"What is going on that you guys had to call me all the way to the North Pole?" Jack complained as he walked into the workshop. North, Tooth, Bunny, and Sandy were all standing around waiting for him, something he wasn't quite used to.

"Good to see you, Jackie!" North chuckled and wrapped his arms around the boy in a bear hug, ruffling his hair and patting his back before letting him go. Jack smiled. It had been a while, but seeing the big four always warmed his ice-cold heart. If anything, seeing them this time helped him forget about the pounding pain in his head from the way Tate had so gently delivered him to this place. Maybe he'd have to talk to Bunny about using his tunnels, he wasn't sure how much longer he could handle the daily beatings Tate had been so willingly giving out to him every time he needed a favor.

Jack looked around at the rest of his friends, but quickly noticed that something was wrong. The rest of them weren't as good as North was with putting on a smile to keep Jack calm. Something was definitely off, and he didn't like the feeling he had in his gut.

"Jack," Tooth fluttered forward, a weak smile on her lips as she put her hand on Jack's shoulder. "Manny has called us all here today… And we think it's time to pick a new guardian." Jack raised an eyebrow, concerned.

"So does that mean something is going to happen? That's why he chose me, wasn't it? Because we needed someone else to fight Pitch?" Jack stepped forward, hitting the ground with the end of his staff so snowflakes and ice covered the ground and flew out from the staff. "What's going on? What's going to happen that the five of us can't handle?" His eyes shifted to Bunnymund, who never neglected to share all the details with Jack. He didn't believe in sheltering the boy, he was almost 300 years old anyway, what was the point?

"We don't know, mate. That's why we needed you here. We've got to see who this new guy is and then we need to hop on out of here and find him, so we can start to prepare ourselves. Something bad is happening, and we need to be ready to protect the children again." Bunny scratched behind his ear, his right foot thumping against the ground, making Jack grin for a second.

"Alright then… Let's see it Manny!" Jack called up to the full moon, which was positioned perfectly above the workshop and was already shining beams of light down into the building. The five of them huddled around the area where the new Guardian would be shown, watching carefully as a body began to form from the moonlight in front of them. It looked like, a human body… With a raggedy old coat, and spikey hair… and a handsome face…

"No. No way, you have got to be kidding me." Jack turned away from the figure and slammed his staff onto the ground again, causing a few toys to fall from the shelves on the wall closest to him. North let out a whimper as they crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces.

Sandy stared up at the boy, confused, a golden question mark floating above his head. Tooth put his thoughts into words, "Who is he?"

Jack shook his head, of course they wouldn't know who this newbie was. Only Jack had the pleasure of having to work with him one-on-one. "That's the new Wind Spirit, Tate. This has got to be a mistake."

Bunny chuckled, placing a paw on Jack's shoulder and wrinkling his nose a little. "I remember saying the same about you, mate. And look at how much you proved us all wrong. Who's this guy?"

Jack shook his head. "It's not the same, at least I cared about children and wanted them to be happy. This guy is so uptight I don't think he's had fun a day in his life. All he cares about is who he was before he was chosen, and I don't think I would've liked that guy much either. There's got to be someone else for this." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, sighing hard enough to blow some snowflakes into the air. This sucked, there had to be some way of choosing someone more fit for the job.

Tooth fluttered over to Jack, then stood in front of him. She smiled calmly, placing a gentle hand on Jack's cheek. "Jack, you need to think about the bigger picture here. The Man in the Moon chose this Tate boy for a reason, and there's nothing we can do but trust that he is the one who is best fit for helping us protect the children," She gestured to the globe in front of them, he feathers fluttering a little as she smiled at all of the lights glowing strong. "This isn't about you now, it's about them. It's about all the children who believe, everyone we are here to protect. Do you see?"

Jack sighed, shrugging, "I know, I know." He frowned at the ice beneath his bare feet, trying to find an argument against what Tooth had pointed out to him. But, there was none. Jack was a Guardian now, and his main priority had to be protecting the children. Bottom line, that's what he was there to do. Not start fights with some guy he didn't get along with so swimmingly. "Alright." He said, a little louder.

"Let's get him."


	4. Chapter 4

**_**I am so so sorry about not writing lately, I just started my winter semester at school and I've had 0 free time along with all the Holiday chaos. But thank you so very much for being patient, and here's the next chapter!**_**

Jack watched from a distance as Tate lounged in the tree across the street, smiling to himself as he flicked his wrist in the direction of a pile of leaves, throwing the leaves up in the air towards a group of small children playing in their front yard. As they screeched with laughter, chasing around the leaves, Tate's smile grew. Jack watched, mesmerized by the way Tate's eyes lit up every time a child let out a particularly excited laugh. He waved his finger, changing the winds with ease and grace. As Tate kept his eyes on the children playing, Jack approached the tree, careful not to draw attention to himself.

"Hey Tate," Jack smiled as Tate startled, jumping enough to fall off of the branch, but he quickly caught himself with a gust of wind and sighed as his feet came to the ground gently.

"What do you want, Frost? I'm working here." Tate kept his eyes on the children, his eyes practically glowing with joy as one of the children came running out of the house with a kite. Jack smiled as he watched Tate, it almost warmed his heart to see him smile. It was much better than that scowl that was always on his face. The young boy across the street threw the kite into the air, and before he could even start running to get some wind on it, Tate gestured toward the kite and sure enough, it was lifted into the air with ease. The boy called out to his friends, exclaiming that he was going to get the kite to go as high as it could. Jack looked at Tate in the corner of his eye, watching him bite his lip in concentration as he made the kite swirl in the air, the children watching in awe.

"Is there any way we could just talk for a little while?" Jack asked, surprising himself with how easy it was to be kind to Tate when he was smiling like this.

"No." Tate said, not breaking his concentration. "This is important to me, Jack."

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, already feeling a hint of annoyance with the older boy. "There are other things that are more important right now." He said sharply, tapping his staff to the ground as he spoke.

Tate finally turned to look at him, frowning now. "You're supposed to guard these children, and right now you're telling me there are things more important than bringing smiles to their faces? You're not all you're cracked up to be, Frost. I'm disappointed." He crossed his arms over his chest, wind at a steady rate now, just keeping the kite in air without making it perform any exciting tricks as it had been before. Jack watched the children twisting the string around, trying to make the kite dance in the wind again, but by now they were starting to lose interest and he could see the way it was hurting Tate.

"Can I ask you something?" Jack said gently, trying not to piss of Tate any more than he already was. He shoved his hands in his pocket as Tate sighed and nodded his head, accepting defeat in this matter. So they began to walk away from the children and towards the woods, where they could talk in peace. Jack was very pleased with himself not only for his patience with the other spirit, but also for how smoothly this was going. Much, much, _much_ smoother than when he was summoned to become a guardian. He rubbed the back of his head, smiling a little as he remembered being tossed into a sack and kidnapped to be brought to the North Pole. He could only hope Tate would react a little less angrily than Jack had, or else all hopes of this going smoothly would be lost.

"Well, what is it?" Tate said, a snippy tone to his voice as he lifted himself onto a low branch of a tree, picking at the bark a little as to avoid any eye contact with Jack. Tate couldn't deny the charm Jack had, and right now was not the time to fall victim to it. He could tell Jack was going to ask a favor of him, and he had already made up his mind not to deliver.

"Why do you care so much about children being happy, Tate?" Jack came out and asked the question that had been on his mind since their first conversation. He looked up at Tate as he threw a piece of bark to the ground. He loved to be anywhere but on the ground, it seemed. Tate looked down at him, taken off guard. He stopped playing with the branch and shrugged. "Oh come on," Jack pursued, only hoping getting him to open up would make things easier on the both of them- and the rest of the Guardians as well.

"I don't know why you're asking me this." Tate said, utterly confused with the randomness of the question. "And I also don't see how it's any of your business."  
Jack laughed, and it hit Tate right in the heart. Something he couldn't deny about Jack was that his laughter was contagious. It warmed the hearts of anyone close enough to hear it... _Lucky_ enough to hear it. "We'll get to that later, I promise. But for now you need to believe that there's a reason I'm asking you this."

Tate sighed, swinging his feet slowly over the edge of the branch as he looked at the array of colored leaves on the ground. Winter was coming soon, and the thought chilled him to the core. How could someone as light hearted as Jack Frost be in charge of such a frigid, unforgiving season? It didn't make sense, and it took everything Tate had to keep that dark image of Jack in his head that he had dreamt up in his previous life. He looked back to meet the eyes of Jack again, hesitating a little before speaking in a quiet, calm tone. "When I was a kid, in my old life, I never got to enjoy being young. I had a disease that was very serious, and kept me from doing things a normal child would do. Simple things like running to play, or going outside in the winter-" Tate noticed Jack falter a little, quickly glancing to the ground to avoid eye contact when he heard the harshness in Tate's tone. "Little things really took a toll on me, because my lungs were shot and my whole body was following close behind their lead. So, I guess now that I've been given a second chance to live, I want to make sure all children really enjoy their youth, since I never got to. Watching them have fun kind of makes it a little better on me. I don't know." Tate shrugged, nervously running a hand through his hair as he thought of what else to say. "I just think that it makes me feel better, if I try to put myself in their shoes. I just wish that I could have been a normal child, even still."

Jack struggled to think of an appropriate response. He never did well in these situations, with sensitive topics. He never knew how to sugar coat things or speak with softness about a subject, so he kept his mouth shut before he could really figure out what would be best to say. Tate kept staring at him, waiting for a response. Jack laid his staff over his shoulder, kicking at the leaves around his feet. All he could think of was-

"Please just don't say you're sorry, okay? Anything but that. It's all I ever heard from anyone. Everyone was sorry for me, but it never helped anything. I just wanted to be treated like any other kid, rather than some freak hooked up to a machine to help me breathe." Tate slid off of the branch, landing on the ground with ease as leaves crunched below his feet. He stood in front of Jack, looking down at him with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "It doesn't matter anymore anyway, Jack. Really. We're spirits now, this is my new life, and with the likes of you, I can consider myself at least a little normal. For this life, I am normal and functioning and I won't be dying anytime soon, so that's a plus." Tate let out a small chuckle, catching Jack smiling as he did so.

They both stopped and looked at each other for a little, not sure of what to say. Jack bit his lip and looked at the ground before Tate gently put a finger under his chin and brought his eyes back up to meet his. Jack held his breath as he looked into the bright blue eyes of the boy in front of him. There was a whole new softness to them that he had neglected to notice before. This boy had been through so much pain, he had overcome so many hurdles only to lose the battle in the end. Jack just wanted to hold him, to assure him that everything had happened for a reason, and things would be better now, and no one could hurt him- not even the cold winter air.

"I get why you hate me so much, then." Jack said quietly, laughing a little. Tate realized he was still holding his finger under the boy's chin and quickly let go, shoving his hands into his pockets to prevent him from repeating that mistake again.

"Yeah well, not much we can do now, is there? Just keep our distance whenever possible and I think things will be alright." Tate said, his voice back to its stern bitterness.

Jack laughed a little, nervously, as he scratched the back of his head and sighed. "Well, you see... that may not be so easy anymore." He laughed again nervously, avoiding eye contact with Tate as he felt him staring down at him.

"And why is that, Frost?"

"Well, you see. There's something that you need to do. Not for me, but for the children. All of them, across the globe. I don't know what it is yet, none of us do actually, but you need to come to the North Pole with me to see North and talk to him about all of this, and wait for some answers from Manny." The words came out like vomit, Jack not knowing how to phrase what exactly was going on. He kicked himself in his head, he had had the whole speech planned out beforehand and Tate had completely ruined it with his story. Jack didn't want to put any more on the boy's plate after everything he had been through in his past life. As silly as it sounded, Jack felt as if it was directly his fault that Tate had lived such a miserable childhood. If only the air could have been a little warmer for him, if only he could have found a way to make it sting a little less every time he breathed it in. Jack never saw the winter as something so harsh before, he only ever realized how much fun the children had playing in the snow and how ecstatic even their parents were when a snow day was called. He never thought of how his cold weather could hurt anyone, let alone a little kid.

"Wait, what?" Tate had taken a while to speak, trying to absorb everything he had just taken in. "Why? What does this even mean? Why are you the one telling me?" Tate frowned, he didn't know what to make of the situation, nor did he even know if he should believe what Jack was telling him. Was the Guardian of Fun just playing a trick on him for his own entertainment?

"Please, Tate. You have to trust me. I was the one who came to talk to you because I'm the one everyone is worried about in this situation, since we seem to hate each other so much. But for right now, for the children, you need to trust me and take us both to North so we can sort this all out." Jack's voice was soft, coaxing Tate to feel comfortable enough to actually hear him out and believe everything he was telling him.

Tate sighed, kicking the leaves again as he ran his hand through his hair. Jack was beginning to notice that it was a nervous habit of his, smoothing his hair back into place. "Fine." Tate said quietly, looking at the ground for a moment more before meeting Jack's eyes. He had no clue why, but for some reason he knew that this wasn't something Jack was doing for entertainment. Besides, why would a Guardian make up anything about protecting the children? It was the one thing Tate knew that Jack took seriously, it was what mattered most to him above all else. And lucky for Jack, Tate cared just as much.

A huge grin stretched across the younger boy's face, and before he could even get out a "Thank you," Tate had whipped them up into the winds and sent them off towards the North Pole, where his answered awaited him.


	5. Chapter 5

Pitch smiled to himself as he watched the events unfold from a distance. Everything was going spectacularly. Even better than he had expected, in fact. Now he had two weapons he could use against Frost to seek revenge. Now that the boy was getting closer with this other spirit, it opened up a whole new window of opportunity for Pitch to pounce on a target and turn them into his own weapon against the Guardian of Fun. He chuckled a little as he watched the older boy touch Frost's chin, and as he saw the way Frost paused his breathing, he knew that this was going to turn into something he could easily take advantage of. As much as Tate hated Jack, it was obvious that something was beginning to happen with the two, and Pitch intended to take full advantage of that.

"Oh, boys," He sneered under his breath, "You have no idea what's coming for you."

When Jack and Tate arrived at the workshop, they stood outside for a moment before Tate turned to the other boy, biting his lip in a way that sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"So what now?" Tate said, his normally confident voice faltering a little as he pushed his hands into his pockets. His auburn hair was a mess in the wind, pieces falling over his sparkling blue eyes. He lowered his chin so that his scarf was covering his mouth, and Jack could see the puffs of his breath in the air. "I hate this." He mumbled. Although Tate couldn't feel the cold now, it was almost a habit of his body's to tense up in this environment. He couldn't think of anything besides the amount of pain he would be in if he were… alive.

"Now, we go in and you meet the others." Jack offered a warming smile to the older boy, but Tate wasn't even looking in his general direction. His eyes were focused on the ground, at the snow around his feet. He couldn't feel a thing, and he was struggling to adjust to this new idea of immortality. He felt invincible, and after a lifetime of feeling nothing but fragile, this wasn't anything easy to take in. When Tate final did look back up at Jack, the smile had faded from his face and was replaced with a look of curiosity. He didn't like the way Jack was taking him in. He had been looking-observing- for too long.

"What?" He snapped, his expression full of distaste.

Jack didn't speak; he knew it wouldn't be worth starting an argument. He just shook his head and headed inside the giant doors that stood in front of him, all red and gold and over the top. Everything about this place was over the top, but then again, how else would it inspire such a sense of wonder in anyone lucky enough to lay their eyes on it?

Tate practically jumped back when the doors began to slowly creak open, only enough for a large beast to stick his head out and look them over. Tate took a few more steps back, slowly taking in whatever was going on. As soon as the beast saw Jack, he let out a strange howl and picked the boy up in his arms. Tate was sure he was about to watch Jack get strangled to death, and he almost made a move forward to interfere before he could remind himself that he shouldn't care. But he soon realized that the sense of danger was false, because Jack's face was covered with a huge grin, and his boyish laugh filled the air around them.

"Okay, okay! Let me down!" Jack laughed, his eyes closed as he scrambled out of the creature's arms and landed softly in the snow with a quiet "thud". He stood up and smiled at the creature that lumbered over him. "Tate," Jack turned to face the other spirit, who was standing quietly a few feet away, his jaw practically on the ground. "This is one of the Yeti's that works here. His name is Steve. Steve is nice." Jack's voice was full of joy, oozing with happiness. Tate didn't even realize that a smile had formed on his own lips as well. Why was it so easy to let Jack get to him like this? He was supposed to hate him. He was cold, and selfish, and harsh. Right?

Tate nodded slowly, and Jack could tell he was trying his hardest not to let this be a good time. As they entered the workshop, the gang was already waiting for them. Tate stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the welcoming crew. He knew who they all were, of course. No one in the world of spirits was oblivious to the big four- now the big five, if you really felt so inclined as to include Jack Frost in the mix.

But when they were right there, standing in front of you, it was different. The warmth he felt from them was something he wasn't used to, after being alone for so long. But there they were, the Guardians, standing in front of him with welcoming smiles on their faces. It seemed as if they didn't have a care in the world, but Tate knew that was far from the truth. Especially given whatever situation was brought to all of them that cause this meeting today. The embrace he received from North interrupted Tate's train of thought. He almost let out a screech from being taken so off-guard by large man who swept him up into a bear hug, his laugh booming and echoing through the huge workshop. Tate laughed a little, more out of nervousness than joy, and groaned as the jolly old man set him back down onto his feet.

"Welcome!" North exclaimed, patting Tate hard on the shoulder. Tate winced, smiling a little at the rest of the Guardians who were obviously taking a moment to size him up.

"Heh… Thanks." Tate didn't really know what else to say. What do you even say to Santa Clause? He thought back to all the nights of his childhood where he sat up on Christmas Eve, waiting to catch a glimpse of the man who had just practically broke his ribs with his hug. These people were his childhood, and now they needed his help? This was crazy, there was no way he could be expected to take all this in.

"What's wrong, mate?" The Easter Bunny chuckled to himself; obviously entertained by the way Tate fidgeted around, not knowing what in the world he was supposed to do. "A lot to take in, eh?"

Tate didn't know what else to do but look to the only familiar face in the room. Jack was smiling at him, his lips curling into the most natural smile he had ever seen. It warmed him from the inside out, and for once he didn't try to ignore the fact that a simple grin from the Guardian could calm his racing thoughts in a second. "Let's get right to it then, huh?" Jack said, an undertone of teasing in his voice. He knew Tate was freaking out, he could see his hands trembling as he kept them tight at his sides.

Once the whole crew was upstairs, Tate finally spoke. "So does anyone know what's going on, really?" His tone was quiet; he didn't want to overstep boundaries by questioning anyone. It was more than easy enough for him to be rude to the likes of Frost, but this was completely different. He could almost feel the power oozing from these Guardians, and he knew very well that this situation was something serious, something he needed to treat with the upmost respect.

The Guardians looked at one another, shrugging their shoulders as if they were silently communicating about which one should speak up first. Realistically, none of them really knew what the reasoning for any of this was, so no one could truly fill Tate in on the current situation. But when all eyes rested on Tooth, she took it upon herself to flutter a little closer to Tate, and place a petite hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the fairies eyes and felt the gentleness only a mother could give, and he immediately knew that these spirits were people he could trust.

"Tate, sweetheart. I don't know how much Jack told you but.. Well," She giggled a little to herself, looking over at Baby Tooth, who squealed and fluttered her wings even faster than she had been before. "Well, I guess I'll get right to it!" Tooth's feathers fluttered in excitement as she grinned at Tate. "You've been called, to be a Guardian, Tate."

What? He had to have heard her wrong; there was no way this could be what was going on. Who even decides these things? They had to have made a mistake, obviously. Tate was new at being a spirit, there was no way he was suited to become a Guardian so soon. And- wait, that meant he would have to work with Jack? No, this couldn't be happening. It was too much, there was no way he could handle this! He suddenly realized that everyone was staring at him, and before he could stop it, Jack's hand was reaching towards his. He tried to move away, but Jack grabbed his hand and held it up in front of his face. He was shaking, badly. Jack snickered under his breath, putting his other hand on top of Tate's to steady the shaking, but it was no use. He whipped his hand away, slamming it into his pocket to take the attention away from that fact that he was currently completely losing his composure.

"Well?" North spoke up first, the only one left smiling. He looked at Tate with a twinkle in his eye, quite characteristic of Santa Clause himself.

Tate shook his head slowly, looking at every set of eyes in the room. Bunnymund was staring at him, trying to read the blank expression on his face. He felt as if he had no choice but to accept, right? Didn't Jack try to say no? He had heard the stories of when the moon summoned Jack to become a new guardian, and he knew that Jack was less than willing when he had been told about the situation. Was that how they all had felt, or would Tate seem just like the brat standing next to him if he declined? He remembered what Jack had told him in the woods before they came here, that the children needed him. They _needed_ him. He wasn't used to that feeling, being needed. He didn't know what to do with that.

"I…" Tate struggled for words, grasping as whatever thought entered his head for long enough to form a full sentence before jumping to the next concern racing through his mind. "This has to be a mistake, I mean. Can't this be a mistake? There's no way, I'm new—I have no idea what I'm doing, really. I can't—"

"Nonsense, boy." Bunny spoke up, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at Tate. He could almost feel the judgment seeping through the rabbit, and he could tell he had to be thinking the same thing as him. He didn't believe Tate could do whatever it was he was being summoned for, and that was obvious. And quite frankly, Tate didn't blame him. He was just a boy. "Manny doesn't make mistakes. Trust me, there have been times where I thought he was completely crazy for some of the choices he's made—" At that comment, Jack chuckled a little under his breath, and Tate saw the rabbit's lips curl in the sides to a small smile. "But, he's never been wrong before, and I doubt he ever will be. We need you, mate. Not sure why, but we do." He twirled his boomerang around in his paw, tapping it against his other paw gently as he kept his eyes on Tate. Was he threatening him?

Tate let out a sigh, looking at the ground as he felt the shaking in his hands stop. He turned to Jack, whose smile had faded. He was nothing but serious now, even concerned. This really was something severe, wasn't it? And who was he to turn down the Guardians? That would be crazier than accepting whatever they were asking him to do. He had to say yes, he was backed into a corner now.

He mustered up everything inside of him, ever shred of courage, just to mutter one word to the rest of the individuals in the room. And when he did, it almost came out as a squeak. "Okay." He forced the word out of his mouth, and he felt everyone in the room stop holding their breath as soon as he did. But now it was Tate's turn to struggle with his breathing. What had he just gotten himself into?


	6. Chapter 6

When Jack went to visit Jamie that night, things were different. He let himself in, as usual. And Jamie was sitting on the couch, watching TV, as usual. But when Jack sat down next to Jamie, it was impossible for him to get his attention, let alone get the boy to look at him.

"Mind telling me what's wrong?" Jack said, laughing to himself a little, out of nothing but pure awkwardness between the two of them. Jamie shrugged, his eyes not really focusing on the TV, or anything for that matter. As Jack looked closer, he could see the bags under Jamie's eyes, the way his body seemed so heavy to him. He just looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in days.

Jamie bit his lip, trying his hardest not to let it show that he was going completely crazy inside. He knew that something bad was going to happen, but he knew that if he even tried to stop it, he would lose his sister to fear forever. It was ironic to him, how he had held so strong against the Boogeyman as a child, but now he was living in fear every day of what he would do to Sophie given the chance. He wouldn't let it happen, even if it meant letting Jack fight this battle on his own. There was just no way he would ever forgive himself. A small part of him tried to convince himself that Jack would understand. He had died protecting his sister; saving her. He would have made the same choice in Jamie's situation, right?

"Something's not right, Jamie. What is it? You look like a mess." Jack pulled his legs up onto the couch, sitting Indian-style with his hands in his lap as he studied Jamie's face. Jamie finally turned to meet his eyes, and forced a weak smile. Jack knew it was fake; it was as if Jamie wasn't even trying to fool him.

"Everything's fine, Jack. I just haven't been sleeping well." Jamie's voice cracked a little when he spoke. It was tearing him apart from the inside out. Was this what Pitch wanted? "

"Have you been having nightmares?" Jack pushed further, knowing there was so much more that Jamie was refusing to let him in on. He frowned a little, trying to find the right words to say. "You're not telling me something, I know it. I've known you for too long now for this to work."

Jamie ran his fingers through his messy brown hair, shrugging again and shaking his head slowly before putting a hand on Jack's knee. He flinched at the cold, but it didn't bother him. He was more than used to it by now. "Everything is okay, Jack. Please stop asking. If there was anything to tell, you know I would tell you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, not believing a lick of what Jamie was trying to convince him of. Something was very wrong here. Everything was off, and it was showing all over Jamie's face. He was horrible at hiding anything from Jack.

"I think," Jamie started, sighing a little, his voice quiet against the murmur of the TV in the background. "I think that you need to leave me alone for a while, Jack. There are some things I need to figure out on my own. I want to be alone." Jamie pushed the words out of his mouth like they were poison, and they stung Jack as if they were. There was no other way for this to work, Jamie knew too much and as far as he was concerned he was under the control of Pitch. He couldn't keep up the front with Jack that he had been trying to, it was obvious from the start that he couldn't look at Jack and lie to him like that. Especially not about something so serious. But he needed to keep his sister safe, and he was going to do anything he could to ensure that in the end. The only way this wouldn't completely tear him apart would be for him to not have to face Jack, at least until the very end.

Maybe then, he would admit to him what a horrible friend he had been.

Jack stood up from the couch, looking down at Jamie. For the first time, the human boy could see anger in the spirit's bright eyes. His expression was pure ice, unforgiving and sharp. It was all he could do to hide how hurt he was. "What are you talking about? This is stupid, just tell me what's wrong." Jack bent down to meet Jamie's eyes, frowning. Jamie looked away, at the ground, to the wall, anywhere but Jack's eyes. This was horrible.

"Please just go, I know you think you can fix this but you can't, Jack. You just need to leave... In the end, you'll understand." Jamie said softly, fighting every urge to cry.

Jack stood back up straight, grabbed his staff, and turned his back on Jamie. There was nothing left to be said. His only friend and his first believer had now completely shut him out two times in a row, and it wasn't something he could put up with right now. Something dark was coming, and it seemed as if every hint of the darkness was seeping into every aspect of his life. He had seen it in Jamie's eyes.

Once he found him, Jack couldn't really remember why he had gone looking for him in the first place. But he was there now, and Tate was standing in front of him expecting some answers. His bright blue eyes grazed over Jack, taking in his flustered appearance. He looked hopeless. His eyes weren't shining anymore. Tate fussed with his scarf, pulling on the piercings in his ears, ran his fingers through his hair so many times that Jack began to watch where his hand was going next. _Stop fidgeting_. Tate ordered himself, shoving his hands back into his pockets before questioning Jack again.

"What do you need from me?" That's what their relationship was. Need. Jack needed to get somewhere, Tate took him. Tate needed to figure out what the hell being a guardian was about, Jack tried to explain it the best he could. Those were the only advances they had made so far—being at least decently civil towards each other, realizing they were part of something bigger now. Granted, they didn't know what this something was yet.

"I don't need anything. I don't—" Jack sighed, frustrated. He couldn't find words. It was stupid of him to come in the first place. Tate knew nothing about believers, or friends, or anything about this world. His last life had left him alone all the time, he had explained that already. How could you make friends from a hospital bed? And he was new to being a spirit, he had no idea what it meant to have believers and the bond that Jack had with his very first one. "I don't know why I'm here, in all honesty." Jack sat down, defeated.

Tate looked down at the younger guardian, sighing. He looked like he had given up. He had never seen Jack so dreary before, without that contagious smile plastered on his pale face. There was no sparkle in his eye, no… fun. Tate almost felt concerned for the guardian. At least, he would if he weren't so set on continuing to hate him. It was about time Frost stopped pretending everything was a game, right? Serves him right to experience a little bit of sadness. A little bit of what he had caused Tate when he was alive. He didn't know what to say, or if he was even supposed to say anything at all. But the sight in front of him was something that made him feel uneasy, and he was having a hard time trying to enjoy the hurt he saw in Jack's eyes. It just didn't feel right.

"I prefer Jack when he's smiling and laughing all the time, as obnoxious as that version of you is." Tate tried to smile, tried to laugh, tried to make things a little better. He leaned down to squat in front of Jack, to force him to look up at him. But Jack kept his eyes on the ground. His hands rested gently in his lap, his staff lay on the ground beside him. His body looked limp and weak, like it was just too heavy for him to carry.

"Something really bad is going to happen, Tate. I feel it. Everything is getting dark, I don't know how to explain it." Jack looked up at the other guardian for a moment, and he was caught off guard by just how handsome he was up this close. His skin was dotted with light freckles, and the orange tint to his hair was highlighted by the full moon above them. His eyebrows were raised a little, eyes full of concern… Genuine concern for the sad excuse for a guardian in front of him.

Tate didn't know what else to do besides reach out a hand and lay it over the other boy's. He closed his eyes a little, wincing at the cold of his touch. Jack held his breath for a moment, feeling the warmth of the other's skin against his own. It was comforting. It was more than he wanted to feel right now, more than he was ready to admit he felt. The corner of Tate's mouth raised in a soft smile, genuine and gentle. It was just enough to make Jack smile a little back, despite every fiber of his being not wanting to do anything but lie there and feel sorry for himself.

"We can fight this, Jack." Tate remembered the words everyone had always offered to him when he was a child. _We can fight this, we can beat this, keep your head up. _He knew better than anyone that sometimes there were just some battles you couldn't win. But at least for now, for Jack, he was going to convince himself that this one could be won. "I'm a guardian now too, and I know that whatever is happening, I will fight with everything I have." Tate paused, reaching for words to offer to Jack. "But I don't know what I'm doing, so I really need you to help me." He bit his lip when the words escaped, wanting to pull them back in.

Jack's expression was nothing but confused. Did Tate just say he needed his help? What? Jack chuckled to himself without noticing, but he caught the way it made Tate laugh a little too, and he held the smile on his face in hopes that he could see it reflected on the older boy in front of him. Tate's smile was flawless, and Jack as so intrigued by it because he never got to see it. It was like a rare treasure you really had to work to earn.

"I can't believe you just admitted you need me to help you with something." Jack nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his sweatshirt lifting up just a bit to reveal the pale skin showing between the waistline of his pants and the bottom of his sweatshirt. Tate shrugged, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he became quite aware that his hand was still covering the other boy's. He didn't notice the cold anymore.

Tate didn't think about what he did next. He didn't even know he was doing it until he felt the cold, soft skin against his lips. But when he kissed Jack, he knew it was right. He couldn't think about anything else but the way he could feel the younger boy smile against his lips, the way the cold felt so refreshing and new to him... The way he never wanted it to end.

**Eeek! You guys are going to love the next chapter, promise. ;)**

**Thank you all so much for dealing with the uncertainty of my updates, I have a lot going on and I wish I could write every day but unfortunately the real world feels the need to be a pain in my ass. I appreciate everyone who reads this so much. By the way, happy New Year!**


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